


Groceries

by Playinghooky



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Chance Meetings, Drabble, F/F, F/M, Fluff, MeetCute, Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 03:18:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Playinghooky/pseuds/Playinghooky
Summary: An ordinary morning, a mundane task. A surprising encounter.Reader does not have a specified gender





	Groceries

**Author's Note:**

> For MJ, hope you enjoy!

It's a cold, rainy morning with grey clouds barricading the sky against the sun’s light. Your breath makes faint clouds in front of your face in the chilly air as you pull your jacket tight around your frame. It's only drizzling right now, but you keep up a brisk pace as you make your way from the bus stop.

The sliding door of the grocery store chimes as you enter and the single clerk sitting at the register looks up from his newspaper to give you a tired nod. You dip your head in acknowledgment and grab a basket as the clerk goes back to his paper. You lower the hood of your jacket, hooking your arm through the handles of the basket and set into the store at a more leisurely pace.

Sunday mornings are the best times to grocery shop. The emptiness of the store is like a safe haven in an otherwise crowded life, the quiet of the place isn't unnerving but peaceful. You walk the aisles in an almost dreamlike state, the fluorescent yellow lighting flickering occasionally, and start placing items into your basket.

Pasta, canned vegetables, tuna. You hear the swish and ding of the automatic doors up front, but you're already in a trance pulling a pasta sauce from the shelf and placing it into your basket. You continue to move methodically up and down the aisles, gradually filling your basket. You reach for your last item, a sugary cereal to reward yourself with for going grocery shopping, but your hand knocks into someone else's.

“Oh sor-" you begin to apologize, eyes travelling from the other hand up a well muscled arm towards a sheepish grin and sparkling eyes. You stop when you recognize who it is you've bumped hands with, the shock of pink hair and the scar is unmistakable. “You're Aleksandra Zaryanova.” you feel dumb as the words leave your mouth in a reverent whisper, but you can't think of anything else to say. So instead you gawk as a slight flush creeps into your cheeks, and maybe it's your imagination but the Russian hero seems to be doing the same.

“Most call me Zarya,” she grins, retracting her hand to run it through her hair, “but my friends call me Aleks.” when you don't respond she starts to look concerned, “Are you alright, um...”

You realize that your mouth has been hanging open and so you snap it closed. Ah, but she's asked you a question and now you're standing, mute with wide eyes, and- “Y/N, I'm Y/N.” you blurt out quickly.

Zarya looks relieved that you've finally spoken, eyes warming with the smile she wears so well. “It is good to meet you, Y/N, I'm sorry I interrupted your shopping.”

“Oh, no, I wasn't paying attention, I should have realized…” that you were in the presence of a literal hero is what you want to say, but instead the next words that stumble out if your mouth are, “Why are you here?”

Zarya lifts her own basket, full of snacks, “Shopping.” she chuckles, a deep sound that you swear reverberates through your own chest. “Sunday mornings are the best time to shop-"

“Because no one else shops on Sunday mornings.” you finish, “It's the perfect time to be alone with your thoughts.”

“It seems we have the same idea,” she continues to beam at you, and honestly it's blinding, “and we enjoy the same breakfast.” she adds, motioning to the box of cereal on the shelf.

You laugh, or maybe its it's just air being pushed out of your lungs, you're a tad starstruck. “I like to treat myself sometimes, but I'm trying to get better about my health.” health you explain, not sure why you feel the need to tell her this, “Actually, watching you on my holovid is what inspired me to start lifting.”

Now Zarya definitely blushes, averting her eyes, “I am honored to have been your inspiration, I was never happier than when I was competing.” and though she says this, she doesn't look terribly happy.

You feel as though you may have inserted your foot into your mouth, maybe said the wrong thing, but then you realize that Zarya is talking about her days prior to the Siberian omnium attack. “Oh, I mean I did enjoy watching you compete, but I meant…” you pause, not wanting to dig yourself any deeper, but wanting to make yourself clear. You want to see her smile again.

“I followed your story, while you were in the Defence Forces.” You watch Zarya’s face, and her eyes meet yours. Her eyes are clouded, not with sadness but perhaps memories. “Watching you fight for what's right, and for what you believe in, that was inspiring to me. I only hope that maybe someday I'll be able to stand for what's right too.”

She does smile now, and Zarya reaches for your hand to clasp it in her own. Her hands are calloused from her labors, but she is very gentle with her grasp. “You will.” She is absolutely radiating warmth, and you start feeling dizzy from this whole interaction. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you would get to talk to your hero and tell her even a fraction of what her story has done for you, it makes your vision swim. Shit, you're going to pass out. There's a ringing in your ears, and you can't quite make out what Zarya is saying next. You open your mouth to say something but your tongue is thick and everything blurs out in your vision until it fades to black.

You find yourself blinking up at yellow fluorescent lights as you regain consciousness. The ringing in your ears has subsided enough to where you can hear a man asking after your wellbeing, the store clerk you think.

“I'll be alright, I just need a minute.” You mumble, trying to remember exactly what you were doing just before you passed out. It's embarrassing, and you almost want to close your eyes again when you realize you aren't on the ground but in someone's arms. “Oh my god…” you groan, as everything comes back to you through the mental fog.

“Are you alright? Should I call someone?” You can't bring yourself to look at Zarya as she holds you, she must have caught you mid fall.

“I just need a minute,” You repeat, blinking away the remaining haze, “maybe some fresh air.”

You feel movement, and start to protest being carried when you are hushed, “Let let me help you outside, Y/N, I do not want you to fall.” Zarya says firmly, stopping by the register to set both your baskets down and to let the clerk know that you'll both be back to pay in a moment.

You try not to make eye contact with the clerk, who huffs as though this were the biggest inconvenience, but goes back to his paper. You focus on taking some steady breaths as the door chimes and Zarya gently helps you get your feet on the ground.

“Thank you.”

Zarya shrugs, “I couldn't let you fall,” she explains, “and you gave me a warning just in time.”

You run your hand over your face, mortified, “I said that out loud?” you groan, but turn it into a nervous laugh, “I, uh, do that sometimes. When I get over excited or nervous, I have a fainting spell.”

“I've never had someone swoon over me.” Zarya’s smile is back, cheeky this time, and you can't help but grin back at her. “Do you want to eat breakfast with me?” she asks suddenly, and it takes you a second to process what she has asked.

“Oh, the cereal. Even after I made a huge dork of myself?” You ask with a chuckle.

“Especially because of that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Vasovagal Syncope (passing out due to overexcitement or nerves, stress, etc) is a real condition, and it sucks, but it makes for good story telling.


End file.
